


finding faith

by guardyanangel



Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Memory Loss, Missing Scene, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem, Self-Esteem Issues, ZRS3, ZRS3 Spoilers, iron zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 23:14:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5068609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guardyanangel/pseuds/guardyanangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of ZRS3, Runner Five struggles to trust again. || ZRS3 spoilers, possible trigger warning for PTSD. Written for the Iron Zombies challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	finding faith

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [these](http://tinypic.com/usermedia.php?uo=bbi8MiGk22P0eNG05C7pEIh4l5k2TGxc#.Vivr9-k-Z6-) [two](http://tinypic.com/usermedia.php?uo=bbi8MiGk22MiJVA%2BWDn3Toh4l5k2TGxc#.Vivr9-k-Z6-) Iron Zombies prompts. Horribly unbeta'd.
> 
> I thought I'd fill in a bit of the time we skip between ZRS3/ZRS4 while examining the impact of everything that happened to Five in ZRS3. Don't say I didn't warn you about angst. There is so much.

Everyone had nightmares, nowadays, but ever since everything with Moonchild, Five’s nightmares had been _worse._ Waking up in the night with _her_ voice echoing in the silence made the blank spaces which cropped up in Five’s memory during the day concerning-- Maybe Moonchild _was_ still in charge, deep down.

Asking the others, though, seemed to indicate that the moments of lost time—the moments when Five could _swear_ Moonchild was speaking—weren’t spent doing anything worrisome. 

“No, I didn’t see you getting into any trouble. You’ve been playing with the kids all day… Are you feeling all right?”

“Yes.” But the affirmative answer tasted like ashes, and Five walked away with shaking hands.

As the weeks went by, remembering things increasingly felt like trying to keep a grip on water. People began to notice how the Runner wandered aimlessly around the Township. How Five would jump at every small sound. How Sam would often be seen searching for his friend to no avail.

Things came to a head when Maxine found the Runner standing in the middle of the clinic, clearly disoriented and complaining of a headache for the third time in two weeks. The doctor, still hard at work despite beginning to be obviously heavy with child, had gently provided pain medicine and taken Five off active duty. 

“You’ve been through a lot, lately,” she said as she escorted the Runner back to the barracks, “I think you might just... need some time to process. Nobody would blame you for taking a break.”

No one but Five, anyways. The unspoken words hovered in the space between them.

When they got back to Five’s, Maxine sat the Runner down on the bed with a smile and a soothing pat to the shoulder. She turned to walk away, but stopped herself before getting too far.

“Talk to Sam, hm? He’s worried about you.”

Five didn’t answer, and Maxine eventually left as the silence stretched out.

Sleep didn't come until a long time after her departure.

__

* * *

A week off active duty, and Sam finally managed to corner Five in the mess hall. Sitting down next to the Runner with his tray of food and a shaky smile, he greeted his friend with a tentative “Hey, Five.”

__—_ It’s not you, you know. Something’s happened to you—_

Five’s tray fell to the ground, and the commotion sounded like the swing of an axe.

When Five came to, half-slumped on the mess hall floor, Sam was there, his smile shaky.

“Hi,” he said, one hand on the Runner’s shoulder, “You’re okay, Five. Gave us a bit of a fright, there, but you’re fine.”

Attempting to squirm out of his grasp, the Runner cast a worried glance around the mess hall. A few of the others were staring, but most seemed to be giving the two of them a little privacy by looking away. Five looked desperately back at Sam, and found him staring calmly back, his hand shifted to hold the Runner’s.

“We’re all fine,” he said steadily, “ _I’m_ fine. It’s over, now.”

Sam was startled when Five pulled him into an embrace tighter than a drowning sailor’s, but he didn’t protest. After months of avoidance, this was an improvement.

If he noticed the way the Runner’s shoulders trembled with quiet sobs, he didn’t say, and neither did anyone else.

 

* * *

 

 

Talking with Sam, Maxine, and Dr. Lobatse about things helped considerably. Five still felt a little jittery sometimes, but it wasn’t as bad as it used to be. It stopped being so difficult to remember things. Even though everything wasn’t quite back to normal, and not even zombie apocalypse normal, the Runner felt a little steadier. Almost hopeful that things would get completely better again.

Just as that hope started to blossom, the race for a cure became more pronounced, and things got worse. Moonchild’s voice started to invade Five’s days again, and with everything going on with Paula and the baby, it was harder for the Runner to find someone to talk to. Wandering around Abel helped infinitesimally. Sometimes, Five would manage to take a trip to the Forest of Fallen Runners to see if communing with those already gone would make the feeling of being haunted go away.

It didn’t. Five started to have trouble sleeping again. Things started to feel shaky. The Runner, remembering the way Sara had been the haunting presence, couldn’t help but long to hear her again. It was infuriating, really, to have Moonchild’s voice so very loud and damning and hear nothing from Sara.

Five had thought the lost Runner would have been more helpful than that. Saying as much to Janine ended up with the woman offering a suggestion that, really, Five should have thought of first.

 

* * *

Five couldn’t help but feel startled by how salty the air felt, here. Standing on the end of the jetty, the Runner wasn’t sure if the salt and wet was from tears or the ocean. It didn’t really matter

“Why aren’t you _here_?” Five wasn’t sure if the words were spoken aloud or not. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting Sara to talk _back,_ “Why aren’t _you_ the one talking to me? You helped when we were at the ship. Is it because we were in the water?"

Silence.

"Well, I’m back, now. I’m at the ocean. Come and talk to me. Be _here,_ Sara. We need you. _I_ need you. I can’t make _her_ go away, and _I need you.”_

Nothing. Five collapsed to the ground with an anguished scream, unable to hold back the pain and tears.

 “Sara, _please_. She won’t shut up, and I—I don’t know what to do. I can’t do this without you, Sara, _please._ ”

No words interrupted the sound of Five’s wretched sobs. No comforting presence made the Runner feel like this wasn’t a mission to be done alone. Five cried and cried until there weren’t tears to be shed. Until everything was quiet, and the quiet didn’t sound so deafening. Until there was finally something like peace in the air.

Until Five remembered one of Sara’s last words.

_The last thing I want to do is come back._

Sara wasn’t here because that wasn’t what she wanted. Sara was somewhere else, probably somewhere better, and Five realized that she likely wouldn’t be able to speak again even if she wanted to.

“…Fine, then.” The Runner’s voice was raw, but there was a strength to it that hadn’t been heard in a while, “Fine, Sara. I can do it. I’m—I’m Runner Five. I’m the Head of Runners, and Sam’s best friend, and one of Abel’s best, and I—I can do this. And—maybe I’ll do it alone, or maybe I won’t. But I can do it.”

Getting up was a hardship, but Five managed it, trembling only slightly. As the Runner turned back to Abel, there was the softest of voices that spoke.

For once, it wasn’t Moonchild’s.

 _“That’s my Five,”_ Sara said, and that was all. It didn’t even sound like her speaking and being here in the immediate moment. It sounded more like a memory Five’s mind had dragged up.

It wasn’t an absolution. It wasn’t healing. But it was enough for Five.

It was a reminder that even if no one else and nothing else—not even Five’s own mind—could be relied upon, Five could trust in being Sara’s Five, and Sam’s, and Abel’s. They all believed and trusted in Five. 

For the first time in a long time, it felt like maybe someday, Five could, too.


End file.
